


My Hero, Forever

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Mute Bucky Barnes, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sharing a Bed, Sign Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:48:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24814831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Steve and Bucky discover what ‘home’ means to one another.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 85





	My Hero, Forever

Bucky arose from his restless slumber with a violent jolt. He recognized his irregular breathing, erratic heartbeat, and the thick beads of sweat racing down his temple; A nightmare. It was just another nightmare.

He folded his arms in on himself, feeling the cool metal ridges of his artificial limb in addition to the warmth of the opposite flesh one. His fingers traced along the bitter scar tissue circling his shoulder, before a shudder traveled through his body.

The former Winter Soldier still felt the pain. The indescribable, gut wrenching agony that he had been exposed to when he lost his arm. The pure horror of being beaten into submission. The defeat of being shocked into a belief system. The trauma was inside him for eternity; both physically, and mentally. 

Bucky knew that he would always remember every aspect of each torture chamber he was strapped into. The sound of mechanical equipment letting out low growls as they clamped around his wrists. The smell of the mildew and mold wedged between deteriorating linoleum tiles. The ugly, yellow LEDs which painted shadows on evil grins. 

It didn’t feel like home, alone in the dark where simple shadows took the shape of his aggressors, towering over him and laughing at his suffering. If he turned on the lights, the outlines of these people would surrender, being cast away by a gentle glow. But they were always stagnant. They were always waiting for their chance to creep in once the room was dim again.

Yet, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 felt like home.

He smelled like aftershave, with a touch of earthy shampoo. Steve smelled like home.

His shaggy blonde hair, kind blue eyes, and a forgiving grin. Steve looked like home.

His contagious, booming laugh and a playful tone. Steve sounded like home.

Steve was his inseparable childhood best friend, the brave soldier who saved him from seemingly eternal abuse, and the man who put time aside to learn sign language for him when his voice didn’t work like it used to, all wrapped up into one.

Steve’s presence always brought Bucky back home.

Bucky cautiously swung his legs over the side of his bed and shook out his tangled, chesnut locks. As he stood, the mattress springs let out a light squeak before Bucky ventured across the hall to Steve’s bedroom.

==============================

In all of Steve’s prolonged life, he has never once regretted being be too cautious. 

Floorboards creaked outside of his door. Immediately, Steve was awake, alert, and upright. As an agonizingly slow door was pushed ajar, Steve quickly grabbed the shield propped up against his bedside 

“I have a weapon!” Steve barked at the intruder, before hastily flipping the light switch on. “I—Bucky?” 

The floor lamp beside his headboard revealed the intruders facial features...which appeared to be none other than a startled, shaking James Buchanan Barnes peaking his head through the doorway. Steve dropped his shield to the ground with a loud thud, and let out an irritated (but relieved) sigh.

“Buck, I could’ve taken your head off! What are you doing!” Steve chided, running a hand down his tired face before locking eyes with his friend.

‘𝘪’𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺’ The dark haired man signed slowly as he stepped a bit further into Steve’s view, almost as if he was ashamed to be standing before Steve all together.

Steve looked at Bucky quizzically, all the initial adrenaline leaving his veins as a pang of guilt washed over him. 

“No...no need to apologize. Its my fault for thinking we were being ambushed,” the blonde admitted with a faint chuckle. He expected Bucky to come in then, but he simply clung to the the doorframe, unaffected by Steve’s words.

Steve then took a moment to thoroughly examine the brunette in front of him. The man was clearly in shock, or scared. His eyes were sunken, and exhausted. It appeared as if he hadn’t been getting enough sleep for at least a few nights in a row. It seemed as if his friend was petrified to enter the room, probably due to his uncontrollable fear of being scolded...which Steve had just subconsciously done to him in his fright. 

Essentially, it appeared that Bucky was afraid of something (or someone), and he was coming to Steve for comfort. Yelling at Bucky was...a very stupid first reaction. Steve’s gaze softened upon realizing that this man simply wanted to feel safe. He didn’t mean any harm by approaching Steve at such an hour; in fact, it could be considered a sign of trust between the two.

Steve’s entire posture relaxed as he motioned for Bucky to come towards him.

“You can come in, Bucky. I’m not gonna hurt you, okay? I’m sorry that I raised my voice. I was just scared,” he said as he gently patted the bedding beside him, “Come here, Buck. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Bucky entered the room with great hesitance, only complying fully when Steve continued to coax him in with tender words. He crawled into Steve’s bed without signing at all. Steve didn’t expect Bucky to inch himself under the covers, settling closely next to him, but he didn’t protest with Bucky’s decision. It didn’t matter to him that they were now sharing a bed; what mattered was giving Bucky consolation.

In the new lighting, Steve could catch the sparkle of a subtle gloss coating his friend’s eyes. Bucky was not only sleep deprived, but on the verge of tears.

“Hey, talk to me,” Steve urged softly, reaching out to tuck Bucky’s wild bed head behind his ear. At first, Bucky flinched at the gesture, but soon relaxed upon the warmth of Steve’s touch. 

‘𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘐 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?’ The distressed man signed, anxiously twisting and turning his hands into phrases that Steve’s brain just barely picked up on. 

“Is there a particular reason why?” Steve asked.

Of course he would agree to Bucky sleeping with him, but he figured asking a few more questions could help him understand what was going on inside his friend’s mind. He wanted to discover a specific, situational kind of reassurance that he could offer the man.

‘𝘐𝘮 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴’ was Bucky’s steady response.

Before Steve could process that he should stop asking questions to a man who suffered so greatly from trauma in his past, his curiosity got the best of him.

“What kind of nightmares?” 

Steve knew he was pushing it with this question as soon as it escaped from his mouth. Maybe he wanted Bucky to feel something rather than bottling it inside himself? Was he going to far? Was is wrong to ask? Should he be asking more? Should he just shut up? All these questions wracked his brain as Bucky’s face twisted into a panicked expression.

‘𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵. 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦’ Bucky signed as he furiously blinked his eyes, desperately trying to keep in his tears.

“But maybe tal—“ Steve persisted.

‘𝘐𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦. 𝘐𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨’ and with these hand motions, just like that, Bucky’s body wracked with violent sobs, so much so that reading his signs was even more difficult than usual. ‘𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵. 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦—‘

Steve realized that he definitely should have gone with the ‘just shut up’ option. The blonde hurried to wipe through the steady flow of hot tears cascading down Bucky’s cheeks.

“Okay, okay. It’s okay. I’m sorry. It was really inconsiderate of me to ask, huh? Come here, sit up.” Steve pleaded with the crying man beneath him. “Can you sit up for me please? I just want to hold you. I won’t ask any more questions, Okay?”

Shakily, Bucky lifted himself up with quivering arms and Steve was quick, yet careful, to wrap his limbs around the smaller boy’s shoulders, letting his head rest comfortably on Steve’s chest. Bucky reluctantly slid his arms up Steves toned back, resting them somewhere around his scapulas. It was soon enough when Steve felt warm, wet tears soaking into the front of his shirt accompanied by grief-stricken whimpers.

Steve was aware of most of the things that worried Bucky, but he knew could never possibly understand what it was like to live with such overbearing PTSD, let alone live through such trauma. Steve truly never heard the entirety of Bucky’s experience as a Winter Soldier, but he knew enough to know how damaging it had been for his friend. He didn’t need to know everything. Bucky was vague, but now was not the time to pry. Steve vowed to himself then that he would never ask another question about Bucky’s past, unless the boy brought it up himself and was willing to talk about it.

Steve was still learning how to properly help someone with such a disorder. They were both still learning. Maybe simple words and soothing gestures were the only things that he could do for his friend.

“You’re here now. No ones going to hurt you anymore. You never have to be in pain again. Never.” Steve mumbled into Buckys hair as he rubbed the boy’s shuddering back. “I wont ever let that happen. I promise.”

Upon hearing these words, Bucky curled into him, fingers bunching up the grey, cotton shirt that Steve clad. Steve ever-so-slightly pressed his lips to the man’s head. He was suprised to feel Bucky nuzzling into the slight pressure.

After a few minutes of tracing patterns on Bucky’s shoulderblades, it seemed that most of Bucky’s tears had been replaced with quiet sniffles. Steve slowly maneuvered their bodies to lay down beside each other, Bucky still half-enfolded in his arms.

Bucky finally looked up at him with red rimmed, swollen eyes. He offered Steve a lopsided smile.

“You alright now?” Steve questioned, stroking Bucky’s thin locks between his fingers.

Suddenly, Bucky started signing again.

‘𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’ Bucky motioned, slowly and thoroughly so that Steve couldn’t possibly missunderstand. 

“I did too, Bucky.” Steve whispered, letting fingers trace over his friend’s sharp, stubbled jawline. 

‘𝘐 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦’ Bucky signed with a sheepish laugh.

However, Steve didn’t think Bucky’s statement was humorous, nor childish. Tears abruptly pricked Steve’s eyes as the soldier remembered the absolute heartbreak he felt over 70 years ago, when Bucky fell from the tram into the white, snowy unknown. How he never fully recovered from that loss until meeting Bucky again a few months ago.

“I wish I could have.” Steves voice cracked, but he cleared his throat in attempt to keep his own feelings out of the conversation.

‘𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸’ His friend signed with a soft smile, to which a stray tear dripped out from Steve’s eye.

Bucky smiled fondly as he swept the tear from Steve’s cheek with the pad of his thumb.

‘𝘔𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰, 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳’

That was the last thing Bucky signed before Steve engulfed the man in a tight embrace so that Bucky couldn’t sign anything else that would have threatened any more tears to spill over.

Steve truly could never understand how he got so lucky. How lucky he was to meet Bucky back in the 1940s, and to reunite through fate in the 2000s. He didn’t understand how Bucky could be so kind, and considerate even with his past constantly nipping at his ankles. 

For a long time, Steve was jumping between houses and bases and relationships. From orphan, to soldier, to superhero. To being Steve Rogers, to Captain America, to just a regular civilian. He never had a certain ‘home’.

Yet, Bucky felt like home. 

Bucky finally brought him back home.

“Sleep well, Bucky. If you’re having trouble, don’t be afraid to wake me up.” Steve promised once he composed himself.

In response, the brunette nodded into Steve’s collar bone. Steve then reached out with one arm to flick off the light switch, to which Bucky faintly winced. It took Steve a few seconds to realize Bucky’s gaze rested on the wall, where a shadow was casted of a few objects in Steve’s room that vaguely took the shape of humans. 

“Oh. Thats what’s bothering you,” Steve concluded, “Don’t worry. They’re just shadows. Not people. See?”

Steve lifted up his arm and clamped his middle two fingers against his thumb, with his index and pinky finger pointing upwards. The moonlight casted a shadow his hand, appearing to be some sort of shadow animal against the wall. 

“Look,”

Bucky laughed a little at the swaying shadow which was now opening and closing its ‘mouth’, holding up his own arm and making the same shape out of his fingers. He seemed delighted to see another shadow puppet against the wall.

Bucky hummed contently as they both put tucked their arms back around each other, almost as if to say ‘maybe they are just shadows.’

Steve finally felt Bucky’s muscles relax for the first time all night, and Steve was overwhelmingly happy that he was able to put the boy at ease.

They laid there for a while, and once Bucky’s breathing steadied and the brunette went completely limp in his arms, Steve was positive that Bucky had lulled off to sleep. 

Steve took a deep breath, and whispered to Bucky’s forehead, “I love you. I always have. I always will. I just never had the guts to say it.” 

It felt like a weight lifted off his chest. He let out a long sigh of relief that he didnt know was inside his lungs. 

However, he froze when he felt Bucky’s soft lips against the base of his neck. They were moving. They were mouthing words into his skin.

‘I love you too’ he mouthed with a light kiss to Steve’s jaw. From there, he whispered the first and only words that Steve had heard from Bucky’s mouth in the past months that he had reunited with him.

“Always have, always will.” 

The words came out practically inaudible, blocked off, and slurred, but Steve could hear them. Steve understood them. Steve couldn’t have wanted any more, or any less. 

Yeah, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 is home.


End file.
